


The Confectionary Job

by tryslora



Category: Leverage, Nailed It! (TV)
Genre: Background Relationships, Crossover, Family, Gen, Minor Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 10:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17020605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: When Wes's older brother comes asking for a teeny, tiny favor, Wes knows that it's not going to be a small thing. It never is with Eliot.





	The Confectionary Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fleurlb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurlb/gifts).



> Dear fleurlb, I loved your prompts! As soon as you said "Maybe Wes is Eliot's actual brother. Maybe Parker gets on the show for real." I knew I had to run with these prompts and combine them somehow. I wanted to stay true to the Yuletide spirit and keep everything from the Nailed It! point of view, so here you go with Wes's version of the story! Thank you so much for the wonderful inspiration and I hope you have a lovely Yuletide!
> 
> [Edited 1/1/2019 to add: Thank you so much to treefrogie84 for all the wonderful conversations about Leverage, help with timelines and background information, and hand holding as I worried about getting them right (not to mention betaing, THANK YOU).]

_I need your help, Wes._

_It’s a gift for my girlfriend, Wes._

_It won’t be a big deal, Wes._

Hah.

#

“Wes!” Nicole’s voice rings out, audible across the sound stage. “There you are, Wes! Oh my God, what did you do to your hair?” She strides across the stage, arms spread out to the sides, and Wes smirks at her look of shock.

They aren’t shooting, so they can be as familiar and friendly as they like, and he opens his arms as well, welcoming the hug. It’s been months since the last shoot, and despite his silent appearance on the show when it airs, he likes the cast.

“I cut it,” he deadpans.

His smile falls away when he sees Jacques not far behind, deep in conversation with someone else.

Just a teeny tiny favor, won’t impact his life at all.

Wes is going to kill his brother one of these days.

“Jacques!” Nicole calls out. “And Andred Janis, our guest judge.”

“It’s such a pleasure to be here.” The guest judge steps away from Jacques to greet Nicole with a warm handshake, smiling pleasantly. It’s all very normal, very typical of a first day on the set.

Except that isn’t a guest judge.

It’s Wes’s brother.

He bites back Eliot’s name, nodding and looking away as Nicole cheerfully shows off the set, Jacques by her side, interjecting his own comments.

“You know how this works, right?” Nicole asks. “We’ve got three novice bakers, and they’ll be trying to do something incredible. We know they’re going to fail. They know they’re going to fail. But it’s important to be encouraging. Be cheerful! We want them to learn something from being here, and to have fun!”

“Oh, I’m all about the fun,” Eliot says. He stands looser than Wes remembers, hands by his side instead of locked tight, crossed over his chest. Eliot surveys the set, and Wes can see him taking stock, memorizing where everything is.

That’s definitely his brother, no matter what name he’s using here.

“Wes!”

He’s by Nicole’s side before she finishes speaking. “I’ll take Mr. Janis around, make sure he knows where everything is,” Wes says.

“Just call me Andred,” Eliot says.

“Perfect,” Nicole agrees with a big grin. “We’re going to go bring in the contestants, get them into makeup and ready for the show. We’ve got a big day ahead of us, and some exciting challenges today. It’s going to be so much fun! And Wes?”

“Yes?”

“Make sure that the money gun is loaded and give it to Andred, won’t you?” she asks, like he doesn’t do this for every single guest judge who comes through that door.

Wes figured out long ago that the backstage was just as much a part of the show as the actual show. There’s still a script to follow.

He crooks one finger, heads for the dressing rooms. “Come with me.”

He waits until they’re out of sight and earshot before saying, “You know, Dad—”

“And you know I really don’t want to talk about Dad, Wes,” Eliot mutters. “Don’t care what he’s doing or what he thinks right now.”

Wes had to try. Someday his family’s going to come back together. Maybe. “Figured I’d ask.” He pulls open the door to the dressing room, motions inside. “This is your space, and makeup will be down to touch up your face before we start filming. Is there anything else you want to tell me, other than your name for the day? What’s really going on here, Eliot?”

Eliot walks into the room, hand drifting over the table as he looks into the corners. “I told you, it’s a gift for my girlfriend.” He turns back to Wes, and the fake smile’s gone. He looks almost sheepish as he admits, “She started trying to cook because I like it. And she’s terrible, Wes. Absolutely terrible. And she kind of hated herself for that, miserable that she couldn’t figure it out, then she watched your show. And she fell in love with it. So I wanted her to be on it, but she wouldn’t even think about putting in an audition tape for it. Alec and I both tried. So we figured if she wouldn’t be on it for herself, we’d just tell her it’s a job.”

Wes hasn’t talked to Eliot in a long time, and he definitely has no context for that explanation. Any of it. “A job?” he asks, although he wants to know who Alec is, too.

“See, we help people, Wes. Me, Alec, Parker—we help when people get in trouble, trying to fight a corporation, or a person, who has all the power. They can’t get a foothold, so we,” Eliot pauses, with a small smile that Wes knows means trouble. “We provide leverage.”

“What does that have to do with my show?” Wes asks, pleased to see Eliot deflate just a little.

“It’s not your show,” Eliot says. “And it means that Parker thinks we’re here to help a woman who—” he cuts off, waves a hand in the air. “The details aren’t important. All you need to know is that she thinks this is all fake. She thinks she’s doing the show in order to get close to Jacques Torres because he did something wrong. We con the con. So she’s a fake contestant, Alec’s a fake contestant, and I’m a fake judge.”

“And Aunt Mae?”

Eliot makes a face. “We needed a fake client who Parker would think is real, and I needed someone I could trust on this show. Besides, you know she can’t bake, and she thinks she’s an expert.” He looks at Wes, and they say in concert, “Cousin Billy’s seventh birthday party.”

“I’ve never seen anything so sad,” Wes murmurs.

“The cake or Cousin Billy?” Eliot asks quietly.

Both. It was definitely both.

“I think your girl has a chance of beating Aunt Mae—shit, that’s Nicole.” Wes pulls the door open, his name echoing clearly. He raises his voice, calls back, “Just getting Andred miked.”

He does exactly that with quick efficiency, and when Eliot winces, reaching for his ear, Wes pats his shoulder. “Take out the earbud,” he says quietly. “Otherwise the minute you turn it on, you’re going to have terrible feedback with the mic. You’ll need to do this old school.”

It’s not like he knows for sure that Eliot’s got something like that. But it seems like a good guess, and Eliot swears as Wes leaves the room.

#

Aunt Mae is going to be insufferable now that she’s won a round. The gold sparkly hat tilts on her head slightly, until Nicole holds up her hand and bellows, “Wes!” like he can’t hear every whisper in his headset. He brings out bobby pins, and helps Aunt Mae get the hat properly perched on top of her grey and faintly purple perm.

She pats his cheek. “Your momma raised such a lovely boy,” she says. “Don’t forget to talk that brother of yours into—”

“I think you’re all set,” Wes says, cutting her off before she can expose Eliot’s ruse. She makes a small disgruntled noise, but he gives her hat one more tug and says quietly, “I’ll tell her you said so.” He ignores the part about Eliot entirely, and hopes Aunt Mae decides to leave it be.

The break between segments is over. Everyone’s had a chance to stretch and eat, and they’re all back on set. Alec, Parker, and Aunt Mae line up on set in front of the workstations, facing Nicole, Jacques, and Eliot, exactly as they’d been before the break began. The hat wobbles on Aunt Mae’s head, but doesn’t slide down again.

“Let’s go see what’s behind door number two!” Nicole calls out, waving at everyone to follow. “Let’s skip. Skip. Skip. Come on, Mae, I know you can do it!”

Mae valiantly tries to skip—Wes can’t imagine when she last would have actually skipped, but it’s hard to say no to Nicole’s enthusiasm. Parker, on the other hand, stands there stock still with a small smile gracing her lips as she watches Alec skip.

“Come on, Leela.” Eliot stops just short of reaching for Parker, hand not quite grazing her shoulder.

She flashes a grin at him, then skips quickly to join Aunt Mae and Alec in front of door number two.

Not Parker. Leela Jameson. And not Alec—he’s Adric Waterhouse. Wes’s head is spinning with extra names to keep track of on top of all the usual information, blocking, and props that he manages on the set.

“Andred! Won’t you tell us what a wonderful surprise we have behind door number two for our Nail It or Fail It challenge?” Nicole asks.

Eliot’s drawl has almost disappeared as he plays the guest judge. “Now that you’ve met the new neighbors, it’s time to invite them over for a pub night—without having to go to a pub!”

The door opens and reveals the tray that Wes placed earlier that day.

“It’s time for beer and sliders!” Nicole cheers.

“There are three cheeseburger cupcakes,” Eliot narrates, while the contestants stare. “Accompanied by a bottle of beer suspended over a frothy mug. And don’t forget the sides—you’ll have a pickle, fries, and a little bowl of pretzels, all made out of rice crispy treats, modeling chocolate, and fondant.”

Parker’s gaze narrows, her attention darting to Jacques as if she blames him entirely for this. On the other hand, she’s been glaring at him all day. Wes wonders what, exactly, they told her he did as the villain of this job.

“Bringing the pub night home,” Alec muses. “Do you think this would make a good addition to a brew pub menu?”

Eliot glares. “No, A—” he seems to catch himself, tripping over the name. “Adric, the idea isn’t to bring the cake to a brew pub, but to mimic the pub at home. With your neighbors.”

“The pretzels are waiting,” Parker says mildly.

Alec bursts out laughing, and for just a moment, Wes thinks Eliot is going to as well. He’s not sure what joke he’s missing; he doesn’t think she’s referring to the chocolate dipped pretzels from the first round.

“In case you think you’ve bitten off more than you can chew,” Nicole pauses to grin. “You all have a panic button on your stations. Just push that button and someone will come over to offer professional advice for three whole minutes. And Leela.”

Parker’s gaze snaps to Nicole, brow furrowing.

“Since you had such a rough time with the pretzels last round,” Nicole says gently, “we’ve added an extra button to your station. Press it, and your opponents have to freeze for three minutes and you get to keep baking.”

Parker’s eyes light up. “They have to freeze.”

“Uh-oh,” Alec mutters.

“In the middle of what they’re doing, whatever they’re doing, they have to freeze?” Parker asks to clarify.

“Whatever they’re doing they have to freeze right that moment, and stay that way for three whole minutes,” Nicole says, dragging out the words.

Being stuck in one position isn’t normally part of the game, but Nicole seems to like Parker’s idea, and Wes has a feeling that’ll come back to haunt them. He just hopes Aunt Mae doesn’t get caught in too bad a spot.

“You have two and a half hours to get all this done, so you’d better get going!” Nicole waves them toward the stations. “Go! Go! Clock’s already started!”

As Nicole, Eliot, and Jacques settle themselves at the judges’ station, Nicole leans toward Jacques. It’s one of those moments they could tape outside the actual baking time, but they always do it where the contestants can hear.

“So, Jacques, what do they have to do in order to get this set up in time?” Nicole asks.

“I am so glad you ask, Nicole. This is a very simple assignment, as long as they pay attention to the directions, and are careful with their time management.”

Across the way, Parker peers intently at the tablet mounted at her station. Alec keeps turning back to look at his while bringing out what looks like every pan from under his station.

Aunt Mae’s turned her tablet off completely.

Wes is glad he doesn’t have to taste these creations.

“The first thing they have to do is bake the cakes, cupcakes, and brownies,” Jacques says. “They will need to pay attention, because each one takes a different amount of time in the oven. Once they are cooled, they can begin construction. The cupcakes will be cut in half, and a round brownie will be the hamburger patty, while colored buttercream will make the cheese and ketchup. Colored coconut will be the lettuce for the cheeseburger. For the cake, it is very simple. They will place their layers together with buttercream and carve into the shape of a mug before covering it with fondant. The bottle will be sculpted out of rice crispy treats and covered with fondant, and they must remember to use a pole to help keep it upright. And of course, while the cakes are in the oven, they must prepare the buttercream, and sculpt the snacks.”

They’ve barely started and the panic button is already screaming. As Jacques rises, Parker jabs her finger at Eliot. “I want him!” she calls out.

“That’s fine, I’ll take him,” Aunt Mae says, pointing at Jacques. “We’ll just pretend I’ve pressed the button, all right now?”

“Two panics at the same time? It’s a good thing we’ve got two experts.” Nicole shoos them away, before looking to Alec. “What about you? Need any help?”

There’s a fine dusting of flour all over everything on Alec’s station. The mixer whirs while he beats something in a bowl by hand. “I’ve got it just fine.”

“Mm-hm, just fine,” Nicole agrees. She leans forward on the table, watching him work. “You don’t have a brother, do you? Is he single?”

Over at Aunt Mae’s station, Wes is pretty sure that she is flirting with Jacques which is… something he doesn’t need to see. Parker, on the other hand, has her head bent close to Eliot’s as they look at something on her workstation. She holds up her hands, and Eliot reaches to move them closer together, and Parker nods seriously.

“Butter and flour your pans, put parchment in the bottom, no more than two thirds full, use cupcake papers, the blast chiller is over there.” Eliot reels off instructions like a drill sergeant, and Parker just nods after each one, taking them in. Wes has never seen advice given like this on the show, and he’s certain there’s never been a contestant before who’d be able to take it.

An alarm sounds and Nicole waves at Eliot and Jacques, calling them back. “Ya done!” she calls out. “Come sit with me. I’m lonely. I’m getting bored. I need someone to talk to. Oh my God, Andred, did you just kiss Leela?”

Eliot and Parker freeze.

“No,” Parker lies. “You’re seeing things. You probably ate a bad pretzel.”

“Good luck with your cake.” Eliot backs out of her station quickly, getting back just as Nicole gets up.

She grabs Eliot’s arm, points. “He’s putting beer in the buttercream,” she says, pointing at Alec.

“See, it’s perfect. I don’t need your recipe,” Aunt Mae declares, as she shoves six separate pans into her oven.

As shoots go, it isn’t really more chaotic than usual. Maybe a little strange, but he’s pretty sure that Aunt Mae is going to manage to upstage everything that Alec and Parker do. Which is impressive in its own right.

#

When the show airs, they’ll make it look rushed and awkward and somehow smooth at the same time, but the truth of the matter is that Wes helps each of the contestants get their creations into place and raise the screen to hide it from the cameras. He checks to make sure that all the releases will work, then gets himself out of the way before the judges approach.

“So, Adric,” Nicole says. “I can’t wait to see this creation.”

“You put beer in your buttercream,” Jacques says slowly, as if he still can’t believe it.

“We’re supposed to be bringing the pub right into the home, so I figured if beer is on the menu, it ought to be really on the menu,” Alec says. He presses the button so his screen drops. “Nailed it!”

The beer is shoved tip down into the vaguely mug-shaped cake. The entire thing lists to the left, and Alec’s hand hovers nearby as if he’s going to catch it when it slides.

“Okay, you have a beer bottle and a mug, that’s good,” Nicole says slowly. “Your beer is kind of… brown.”

“It’s a Guinness,” Alec says.

“Your cheeseburger sliders have slid right off the plate,” Eliot points out. The top buns are lying on the table, the buttercream dripping.

“This is because your buttercream is too thin,” Jacques says, pointing at the drips. “It is too thin, and it cannot hold the cupcake, which is also probably a little bit too warm.”

“You added beer,” Nicole says. “The cupcake’s drunk. And I want to try it.”

“He has got all of the elements, though.” Jacques gestures at the different areas of the plate. “He has the mug and the bottle, the cheeseburgers. He even has his fries and his pretzels. Although—are those your pretzels from the last round?”

Alec grins. “They were just lying around doing nothing, and I needed pretzels.”

“Pretzels do that,” Parker comments quietly. “Just sit around. Waiting. It’s kind of nice of them.”

Alec shoots her a small smile that’s all too fond, and Wes hopes isn’t caught on camera.

“Well, I can’t wait to taste your cake, Adric,” Nicole says. “But right now, we’ve got to move on to check out what Leela’s done. Come on, come on, moving on!” she sing-songs as they walk the short distance to the next station.

Parker stands behind her station, upright with her hands clasped behind her back. Her gaze flits from Alec to Eliot, then settles on Jacques as her brow furrows again.

“Leela!” Nicole calls out. “Let’s see your creation!”

Parker hesitates just a moment, still watching Jacques, before she touches the button to drop her shield. “Nailed it,” she says quietly.

“Oh my,” Nicole says. “This is—”

“It is really quite good,” Jacques says.

Parker smiles slightly, shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to her heels, settling in.

“It really is,” Nicole says. “Your beer can is levitating perfectly.”

“I used a stick.”

“And your foam looks kind of foamy.” Nicole reaches out, gently pokes at the foam on the top of the cake mug. “Oh! It’s a little springy.”

“Did you ever put a peep in the microwave?” Parker asks. “I have. I’ve exploded them, and then E—my boyfriends say I have to clean up. Which I do. But before they explode, they kind of bubble up,” she mimes the movement with her fingers. “So I thought that marshmallows would do the same thing and I could use them on top of the cake.”

“That’s genius!” Nicole crows. “You’re my favorite, Leela.” Her voice drops to a stage whisper. “Don’t tell the others.”

“It’s okay,” Parker leans in to whisper just as loudly. “They already heard you.”

“We did,” Alec agrees. “But that’s okay, you’re my favorite, too. Since you decided not to freeze me and all.”

“Should I be offended?” Aunt Mae asks. “Jacques, tell me I’m still your favorite.”

“Mae, you are still my favorite,” Jacques says, and Aunt Mae preens.

“Your slider cupcakes are almost perfect,” Eliot says. Parker smirks in response. “You’ve dripped a bit with the frosting, but it looks like you baked the brownies and cupcakes very well.”

“I had good advice, and unlike some people,” Parker’s gaze slips to Alec, “I listened.”

Nicole leans in, picks up one of the fries. “What did you make the french fries and pretzels out of?”

“The pretzels are chocolate because someone else already took all the real pretzels, but that’s okay, I’ll forgive him,” Parker says. “The french fries are gummy worms that I dipped in butter and rolled in rice crispy crumbs. I like crunchy french fries. Like those ones where they bread them and fry them, so they’re extra crispy. These are like those.”

“With fruity gummy centers,” Nicole says slowly.

“Sour. I used sour.”

“Right.” Nicole bites off the end of one of them, her eyes going wide. “Okay, that’s weird, but good. I could eat more of that. Good job, Leela! I can’t wait to taste your cake and cheeseburger sliders, but right now, we have to move on!”

“Can I take this thing off?” Aunt Mae asks, tugging at the golden chef’s hat.

“You want to take it off?” Nicole asks, wrinkling her nose. “Of course you can take it off.” She reaches for it, tugging, and Aunt Mae makes a small sound. “I think it’s stuck on there, Mae. What did you do to this?”

“Oh, you can blame Wes for it. That boy’s always been able to fix things so well they’ll never come apart again,” Aunt Mae says. She pauses, meeting Nicole’s confused and curious look blandly. “So I’ve seen here, anyway. Wes, darling, can you come take all these damn fool bobby-pins out of my hair?”

“Wes,” Nicole hisses.

“Later,” he mouths without saying anything, and hoping the cameras don’t pick up on it. Everything’s still rolling, and every bit of this is potential footage. He makes quick work of the pins, takes the glittery hat, and quickly ducks back to the sideline to watch.

Mae punches the button to drop her shield and cheerfully yells out, “Nailed it!”

Her beer bottle lies on the plate next to a dangerously listing mug. The cheeseburger sliders sport green fingerprints from the food dye on Aunt Mae’s hands, and there are drips of ketchup-colored buttercream everywhere, like a Jackson Pollock painting.

“Oh, my,” Jacques says. “I do believe that your sliders are just a bit messy.”

“I had a bit of an accident with the piping bag,” Aunt Mae admits. “It just got away from me.”

“Cousin Billy’s birthday,” Eliot mutters under his breath.

Wes doesn’t need to hear the words to know what he said. And the thing is, as messy as this is, Aunt Mae really has improved. Then again, it’s been twenty years, and she’s been practicing a lot in that time. So many kitchen disasters.

Nicole leans in, carefully tilting up the top of one cheeseburger slider. “What is that, Mae? It doesn’t look like a brownie.”

“Doesn’t it?” Aunt Mae peers at it. “I made my favorite brownie recipe. My boys don’t like chewy brownies, you see. They really like the edges. I used that all edges pan.”

Because Aunt May’s never known how to make a chewy brownie. But Wes bites his tongue and says nothing.

“Mm-hm, mm-hm,” Nicole says, nodding and retreating.

“It is a mess, but it still could taste good,” Jacques allows.

Eliot pokes the beer bottle lying on the plate. When he twists it, the camera zooms in, and Wes sees it clearly on the monitor. It’s wrapped in dark modeling chocolate, and it looks as if the name has been scratched into the side with a knife.

“Coors Light?” Eliot says, his eyebrows arching.

“It’s what Bud prefers,” Aunt Mae says.

“And Bud is your—”

“He’s my husband,” Aunt May replies, before Nicole can finish the question.

“Your husband is a man named Bud who prefers Coors. Okay,” Nicole says slowly.

“I think you’ll be surprised by just how good the cake tastes,” Aunt Mae confides. “It’s my own recipe. Been making it for years, for my kids and now for my grandkids. They all love it.”

“I can’t wait,” Nicole leans in to take another look at the sliders, then stands up tall. “Okay, everyone, it’s time to cut me your best slice of cake and bring us that and one of your sliders! Come on everyone, I can’t wait to taste your cake!”

Wes moves between the three contestants, helping them plate their cake and sliders as neatly as humanly possible, all things considered. As he offers a plate to Parker, she grabs him and manages to subtly yank him down so she can whisper in his ear.

“She knows you,” Parker hisses. Her gaze flicks to Aunt Mae, just in case he can’t figure it out.

Wes nods in shallow motion.

Parker grins. “Cool. Because Jacques seems like a really nice person and I was hoping he wasn’t actually evil. I like him on the show. I don’t want to have to make him stop doing it because he’s broke or going to jail.”

Wes just blinks, and nudges the plate closer to her.

“I’m not going to tell Eliot and Alec that I figured out it’s not a job. Yet,” she whispers, and Wes worries, just a little, for his brother when Parker does get around to tell him.

Just a little. After all, Eliot brought this on himself.

Parker drops a thick slice of her mug-shaped cake onto the plate, making sure to include the puffed marshmallow on top. It drips across the ceramic, and she nudges it aside as she puts a cheeseburger slider next to it. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

Wes just nods, and takes the plate.

“Adric! Let’s see how your cake tastes.” Nicole picks up a huge forkful of the cake and shoves it in her mouth. Her eyes go wide as she chews slowly. “Um.”

“You put beer in the cake.” Eliot points his finger at Alec. “I didn’t see you do that.”

“You weren’t paying attention to me,” Alec replies, grinning. “What do you think? Brew pub menu-worthy?”

“No,” Eliot says, but he takes another cautious bite, his brow furrowed.

“I don’t hate it,” Nicole says, once she swallows. “The cake is moist, Adric. It’s a little tangy maybe, a little bitter, but it goes with the chocolate nicely. You used too much fondant, though.”

“Make the fondant a little thinner next time, yes,” Jacques says. He tastes the cupcake as well. “I think you have put beer in everything. It works in the cake, and in the brownie. It does not work in the buttercream. But it is a good idea, and I like how it all comes together.”

“It’s creative! And I like it when people are creative.” Nicole claps her hands together. “We cheer on creativity! Adric, you did good! Now, Leela, my favorite, bring me your cake?”

Parker takes the plate that Wes offers and carries it carefully up to set in front of Nicole. Her gaze darts between the judges as she watches them take bites. She only relaxes back onto her heels when Eliot smiles at her and winks.

“Is it good?” she asks.

“It’s a very nice cake,” Nicole says. “It tastes like something… something….”

“Is that orange?” Jacques asks.

“I put orange in the chocolate cake, like those chocolate oranges you get. And I put lots of vanilla in the cupcake buns. And I made the brownies kind of chewy, because that’s how my boyfriends like them.”

Nicole pokes at the brownie hamburger. “It might not be done.”

Parker purses her lips. “It’s done. I made it just like they like. Gooey in the middle and just a little crispy on the outside. He told me exactly how long to cook it.” She glares at Eliot, who is not looking at her at all.

He holds up the brownie, poking gently at the interior. “Maybe one more minute, but that’s practice. You’ll figure it out next time. It’s pretty close, though, and it’s definitely edible.”

“It’s good,” Jacques says firmly. “It is all very good, Leela. I could eat these cakes, and it is very pretty.”

“I still like the fries.” Nicole makes grabby hands. “Wes, bring me the fries. I’m taking them home with me.”

Wes can’t get there before Parker, who scoops up the paper container of fries and delivers them back to Nicole. “As long as I’m still your favorite,” she whispers loudly.

“Always, Leela,” Nicole whispers back, and Parker straightens up, grinning.

Eliot grabs the remains of the cheeseburger cupcake before Wes can clear the plate away, eating it quickly. He licks buttercream from his fingers as quietly as he can, and Wes swears Parker giggles, even though he doesn’t see any external reaction.

Alec, on the other hand, watches intently.

“Mae! Bring me your cake!” Nicole yells.

Aunt Mae proudly carries her plate up, the slice of chocolate cake thick and the slider cupcake stacked as neatly as she can, with a fresh, new set of green fingerprints marring the cupcake and the plate. She sets it down and backs away.

Jacques takes a forkful of the cake and looks at it. “Is this jelly between the layers?” he asks. “And did you use fondant on the outside?”

“I don’t like fondant,” Aunt Mae says firmly. “It tastes awful. So I used that same modeling chocolate, since I already had it out for the beer bottle. And I didn’t have enough buttercream after that small piping bag problem, so I just used a jar of raspberry jelly I found. My boys love chocolate and raspberry together.”

“You didn’t use the recipe on the tablet,” Nicole says, looking at her fork a little warily.

“I did not.” Aunt Mae’s chin tilts up. “I used my own.”

Eliot takes a big bite, smiles as he sets his fork down. “It’s good,” he says. “The cake’s bitter from the amount of chocolate, and a little too sweet, but the tart raspberry is a good offset. It’s dry, but the jelly works for that. It’s probably good you ran out of buttercream.”

Nicole takes a quick drink of water after her cake. “Definitely a little dry, but it’s not bad.”

“I did not think it would work, but it does,” Jacques allows. “Please, let me try the cupcake.”

Nicole cuts into the cupcake, and the brownie snaps with an audible crack. She pauses, drawing back. “Mae, I don’t think this is a brownie anymore. It’s a cookie.” She pulls the piece out, carefully takes a bite. “That said, it’s not bad. It’s very chocolatey, and a little weirdly chewy-crispy, but it’s not bad.”

“My boys like them like that.”

“Remind me to make them good brownies,” Eliot mutters under his breath, and Wes holds back a snort of laughter.

“You’d have to come home to do that,” Aunt Mae retorts, and Eliot flushes.

Nicole looks back and forth between them. “Do you two—no, never mind. Never mind.” She sets the fork down with a clatter. “It’s time to choose a winner! You three just wait here, I need to confer with my fellow judges. Jacques! Andred! Follow me!!” She waves and leads them off to one side where they stand, heads bent together.

The contestants drift closer to each other. Aunt Mae reaches out, pulls Parker and Alec both into a hug, holding on tight. “You’re good kids,” she says, and Wes thinks she probably thinks she’s whispering.

“You are really bad at this,” Parker says somberly as soon as she can stand on her own. “Not baking. You’re pretty bad at that, but so am I, so that’s okay. Eliot’s really good at it. But this,” she gestures from herself to Alec to Eliot. “It’s a good thing it’s fake.”

“What?” Alec blusters. “It’s not fake. This isn’t fake. It’s a real job. That man—he’s—”

Parker pats Alec’s cheek. “Jacques Torres is not an evil man, and he’s really nice, so it’s okay. I had fun.” She grins sharply then. “And I want to win.”

“Oh, you think you’re going to win.” Alec waggles a finger in her face. “I used beer. They were impressed with my strategic use of beer.”

“Nobody beats my brownies,” Aunt Mae says, expression serene.

“Gummy. Fries,” Parker says, enunciating each word carefully. “Nicole loves me.” She glances sideways at Alec. “Eliot loves me,” she says more quietly.

Alec laughs under his breath. “He loves me, too.”

Aunt Mae sighs, smiling gently. “Welcome to the family.”

“We have a decision!” Nicole’s voice rings out.

Wes helps get everyone arranged so that it looks like they were just critiquing the cakes moments ago, and the contestants never moved from their positions.

“So, who is the best baker in the Nail It or Fail It challenge?” Nicole asks. “Is it going to be Adric, who tried to get us drunk with his beer infused cake? Or maybe Leela, whose beer defied gravity while pouring marshmallow foam? Or possibly Mae, who surprised us all with her home brew recipe for cake, and her brownie cookies! Jacques, tell us who it is.”

Jacques sits upright, smiles at each of them in turn. “Today, the winner is….”

There’s a pause then. Not as long as it will seem when the film is cut together, interspersed with shots of the expectant faces, but still long enough that Parker rocks from toes to heels and back again in anticipation.

“Leela,” he says. “Your cake was built very well, and it tasted good, too. Congratulations.”

“Congratulations!” Nicole yells, drawing out every syllable of the word. She elbows Eliot. “The gun, Andred! The gun!”

Eliot lifts the gun and winks at Parker just before he presses the buttons. Parker jumps forward to catch the first few bills that fall, and as she looks at them, she laughs. “Money!” she says.

“It’s not real,” Aunt Mae whispers loudly.

Parker shoves the bills in her face. “This is real because they love me,” she says.

It is real. Wes can see it from here. That isn’t what he loaded into the gun earlier before tucking it into the proper space for the prop, which means at some point during the shoot, Eliot managed to reload the gun, unobserved.

“Only the first few bills,” Eliot admits, but Parker stays smiling.

“Of course,” she agrees. “Who would spread that much real money around like this?”

“Would someone please explain to me what’s going on?” Nicole asks loudly. “Wes!”

“You know,” Eliot says to Parker.

“Oh yes, she knows,” Alec agrees.

“Wes….” Nicole drags his name out dangerously slow.

“Ma’am.” Eliot’s voice is suddenly all charming southern drawl. “We apologize for the deception. You can blame me, here. Wes is my little brother, and I just wanted a gift for my girlfriend.”

“We wanted a gift for our girlfriend,” Alec corrects him, and Eliot gestures between them as Alec speaks, nodding.

“And Wes agreed to help us out, because Parker loves your show so much,” Eliot says.

Aunt Mae has her hands held to her heart. “It’s such a sweet story. I had to help out, even if Eliot refuses to talk to his Momma. You know, honey, she’s going to see me on this show and know I—”

“It can’t air,” Parker says quickly. She crosses the room to end up in front of Nicole and Jacques. “I’m so sorry, but it would really screw with our actual jobs. Which is what I thought I was doing here, but I just knew Jacques Torres couldn’t be an evil man. It’s been great to meet you, and I love watching your show, and it’s really helped me learn to bake. And to well, fail. A lot. I make a lot of messes, and Eliot and Alec help me clean up all the time. And Eliot encourages me, even when my brownies taste like bricks.” She makes a face at Aunt Mae as if to say, _see, I do it, too_.

“Oh, honey, you are just adorable.” Nicole leans forward and pulls Parker into a hug, squishing her as she sways back and forth. “Look, Wes, you have a sister-in-law! And a brother-in-law!”

“We’re not married,” Alec, Parker, and Eliot respond in concert, Parker’s words muffled by how Nicole holds her close.

“It’s easier than saying his brother’s girlfriend,” Nicole says, patting Parker’s cheek as she sets her back on her feet. “Now you—Adric, or Alec, or whatever your name is. Do you have a brother?”

“I do not,” Alec admits with an easy grin. “But if I did, I would give him your number in a heartbeat.”

“You are sweet.” Nicole kisses the air.

Wes coughs. “Nicole. Cameras are still rolling.”

“But we’re not going to air—oh hell with it, let’s finish this up and you can take the raw footage home as a souvenir!” Nicole looks straight at the camera and calls out, “This has been another episode of Nailed It! Thank you for being here and stick around, because there’s another one coming right up!”

Jacques gathers them up for the traditional selfie. Parker climbs on Alec’s back for it, while Eliot pulls Wes in with an arm around his shoulders. The click of the camera sounds as Parker kisses the top of Alec’s head, and Aunt Mae grabs Wes and Eliot to pull them into a hug.

“Call your Momma,” Aunt Mae admonishes, and when Eliot tries to protest, she talks right over him. “Call your Momma. She raised you right. Even if you don’t bring them home, it’s not right that she hears about your fellow and girl from me, now is it?”

Eliot sighs. “Yes, ma’am.”

#

Nicole catches Wes as they’re breaking down the set for the day. Cleaners work hard at the stations, scrubbing away food coloring stains, and wiping flour off of every surface. She frowns as she looks at the set, then looks to him.

“We’re starting to shoot the holiday special season tomorrow,” she says uncertainly.

Wes nods. “Eight AM sharp,” he agrees. “Everything’s ready to roll.”

Nicole relaxes. “Good. I was starting to wonder if it all was some kind of a—”

“Con,” he supplies. “They’re….” He trails off, realizing he doesn’t really know enough to explain it. “It doesn’t really matter. Thanks for going along with it.”

“Oh Wes, I figured it out halfway through that it wasn’t real, but hey, we were all having fun, so why not?!” She throws her hands up in the air. When she lowers them, her expression is stern, pinning him. “You know, I still hate the hair.”

He reaches up, scrubs his fingers through it. It still feels strange to him, only a few days after getting it cut. “I know.”

“I am going to call you out for it,” she warns him. “Often.”

“I know,” he says again.

She’s silent for a moment, then tilts her head. “Why’d you do it, Wes?”

There are a lot of reasons. It’s easier to care for. It doesn’t get as tangled, and he’s hoping not to go through a bottle of conditioner a week anymore. His girlfriend likes it, but Nicole doesn’t need to know that.

No, he has the perfect answer for her.

“Because, Nicole. You love have something to yell at me for.”

Her yell of, “Wes!” follows him as he exits the set.

He knows he’ll be hearing about it for days while they film the holiday season episodes, but it’s worth it. After all, Nicole’s family now, and that’s how family is. You’ve just gotta give them what makes them happy once in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> One silly note, in case anyone was wondering... Hardison picked the aliases for the day. Parker is Leela Jameson, which is a cross between the 4th Doctor's companion Leela and her actress Louise Jameson. Continuing on the theme, Hardison's name comes from the companion Adric (who briefly appeared with Leela) and his actor's last name, and Eliot's alias is drawn from the man who Leela stayed on Gallifrey to marry. Given Leela's fierceness, and the relationship between the three, it just all seemed like fun.


End file.
